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Poem
T'was the night before Christmas,
Satan feelin' kind'a blue,
Cooked up a devilish plot...
To repay me and you...
For all this religious fervor,
And holiday joy....
Annoyed him like hell,
He would take every toy!
Inspired by the Grinch,
I'd guess...
He'd make this Christmas,
An unholy mess...
So he dressed the part,
In flaming red suit ill fitted,
His tail he could not hide,
In that he was outwitted...
With Santanic glee,
He set on his course,
To repay this cruel world,
With tons of remorse...
His raindeer substitutes,
Many demons in pain...
Would haul his fat arse..
No matter the strain...
With a magic bag to steal all the toys,
It you could never fill,
Toys just disappeared
To make cry girls and boys...
Well he struggled down,
The first chimney, you see,
Attracted by its fire,
Not by how it'd used to be...
He bristled with
Santanic Claws,
Designed to give,
Anyone pause...
Chucklin' sardonically,
As he did descend...
He'd even steal their stockings,
Which perhaps he could mend...
And someday soon after,
Sell them at a flea market,
Being sure to infest them with fleas,
While attached to an electric socket....
Would be just his luck,
On that first he was greeted
With a big-eyed little girl,
Her prays did seem answered,
She was quietly seated...
"Oh, dear Santa she cried,
I've cookies for you,
And milk cause I heard,
You loved that stuff too!"
He eyed her with anger,
A craw in his throat,
His plan now seemed
hopeless...
His goal would not float...
Countless children, he gruffed,
To defend their own home?
The weapon of innocence...
Their's all alone...
He turned and he roared,
Up the chimney in a snit,
And that was the last time,
That a child did outwit,
This king of all evil,
And doer of deeds,
Unspeakable for ages,
To all races and creeds...
So if you want,
your Christmas toys,
Alert and count on,
Your little girls and boys...",
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